MHA/BNHA Stories.

Father's Day.

Not my artwork, credit where credit is due. Artist signed it.

That fake smile and empty eyes, he knew them all too well. It was like looking into a mirror only one that showed the past and not the present. You might look and sound different but you were the same, just like him, something the number two hero noticed immediately.

Your mannerisms, happy and laid-back tone, and habit of covering your mouth when you hit a little too close to home with a comment. Had the blond wondering if you were mocking the hero or impersonating him? They say that imitation is the highest form of flattery, and I hope that is the case here.

Watching you from afar, those golden optics knew all too well what was going on at your home. Those signs, so subtle to others were loud, screaming harder than Present Mic, to him. His own childhood came flooding back. The late nights, digging through garbage cans for food, begging for money. Beatings, so many beatings, assaults of all kinds.

Today was the worse, you had been kicked out the house yet again. This time before the sun even came out. It was dark out but luckily not too cold or hot as you only had a thin, hole-riddled shirt, shorts, and flip-flops. There was no telling what manner of man or beast was out here but that never mattered to your so-called parental figure.

Walking along the darkened streets, eyes darting this way and that way, you moved onward. Maybe if you got lucky you could find a nice dry place to hide in or the bakery will be throwing out their old pastries. As it felt like it was going to rain soon.

Picking up the pace, you noticed something was off. It was quiet, far too quiet. It reminded you of the times your father would come home late at night. Disorderly and deranged He was always so quiet, eerily so prior to taking his anger, boredom, drunken fits, or frustrations out on you. That kind of quiet always made you go into a panic attack, this time was no different.

Hawks watched as you rushed forward, just barely missing a parked car in your attempt to get away from whatever spooked you. Muttering and crying to yourself as the rain came down hard and sudden.

At least the rain would hide those tears, tears you didn't want to come. Why did you feel sad about that jerk anyway? Perhaps because of today's date.

You can't get away from your own mind, fledgling but don't worry, Daddy will help you. Following your shaky form, the winged hero soon took perch on a high building, observing as your body crumbled to the ground.

A cemetery, a place where the dead are laid to rest. That is where your body decided to give in to its fatigue. Not just any place though, right on top of the grave of the bastard that left you in this state.

Your chest rose and fell as you poured out your soul. Remembering all the pain and sadness that your father caused. That man was dead and gone but the wounds he left behind were still there, still fresh. You were so far gone, caught up in your own head that you didn't feel that hungry gaze. The wind and rain blocked out the flapping of wings. Didn't notice as a warm jacket was placed over your frame.

The only thing you did notice was being pulled into a loving embrace, something you've never truly felt before. Your face was cradled into someone's chest, and sounds, not words, were whispered in your ears.

Your eyes tried to take in the person that was holding you, protecting you from the onslaught of the heavy rain but a sting to your nape had you out within a minute. Spreading out those large wings, he takes flight, going full speed.

Someone had to save you, who better than him? The man that has been through it all before. Keigo would gladly love and care for you, something the tan, black, and yellow-clad individual could never do for himself. Not with the commission on his back. If someone else or the Hero Commission found you they would turn you into a weapon. Takami wouldn't allow that to happen.

Keigo knew this was wrong, he had just kidnapped a child off the streets. Yet the blond also knew that your parent, if one could call them that, wasn't going to look for you. No one looked for him, and this was too similar. This is for the best, he tells himself. Once inside his humble home, you're placed on the couch before having your flip-flops removed.

A shirt is placed over your sleeping figure after the dirt and mud are gently cleaned off your body. Takami made sure to use his feathers to help clean you up. Then tucked you in for the night himself, leaving a sweet kiss on your forehead.

Your face scrunched up just a bit at the foreign feeling. This made the birdman coo a little. "Don't you worry, papa will take care of you from now on. Just rest, I'll be back before you know it. I just have to....take care of a few things."

Those things were your former home. You didn't need them anymore. Not while you have your strong and fearless Papa bird to take care of you.

After all, it's Father's Day, and you just made him a real father.

916 words, might not be exactly how you wanted it but I hope you enjoyed it, 8Daddyissues8